


Melisande's Daughters

by LectorEl



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Parenthood, grief and mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LectorEl/pseuds/LectorEl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melisande wept in her grave. Too soon. Mortality was a curse that stole away his family, and it was too soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melisande's Daughters

Talia cradled her little sister in her arms, eyes red from weeping. Jannat hid herself in Talia’s embrace, refusing to look at Ra’s. Both girls were still dressed in funeral whites with their hair trimmed short in mourning. Talia, just recently thirteen, had their mother’s favorite shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

“I hate you,” The four year old muttered rebelliously, face muffled in Talia’s stomach. Talia ran a comforting hand through Jannat’s hair and stared blank-faced at their father, pointedly not reprimanding her sister. Ra’s made allowance for their grief, and allowed the small rebellion.

“Come, Jannat,” Ra’s commanded. The toddler pulled away from her older sister reluctantly, scowling blackly at Ra’s. Talia leaned down and embraced Jannat one last time, wrapping Melisande’s shawl over her sister’s shoulders.

“I don’t want to live with you anyway,” Jannat told Ra’s sulkily, trudging resentfully over to his side.

“Daughter…” Ra’s said warningly. Jannat kicked his shin.

“Not yours!” Jannat screeched. “ _Stupid_.” She hefted up her knapsack and stomped out the door.

“She has a point, Father,” Talia told him, voice cold. “Orphanages aren’t where wanted children end up.”

“Do not start with me today, Talia.” Ra’s stared down at his eldest daughter.

“Who’s starting anything? _I_ didn’t decide to give away my dead wife’s little daughter.” Talia fixed a gimlet stare on Ra’s. _Try me_ , her body language screamed. _Just give me a reason, any reason at all._

“Go to your rooms,” Ra’s ordered tiredly. “We will be having a discussion about your manners later.”

“Don’t rush.” Talia tossed her head. “As you said _, I_ am able to take care of myself.” She turned and stalked down the hall to her suite. Ra’s held back a sigh, and followed his youngest out the door.

Jannat was just barely visible in the back seat of the car, curled up between the door and her knapsack, with the shawl drawn over her head. Ra’s summoned the driver with an imperious gesture. The man trembled as he approached.

“You will deliver Jannat to the Mikkias Children’s Home in Gonar. She will arrive unharmed, with all her belongings still in her possession.” Ra’s told the man. “You will escort her to the director and obtain paperwork certifying her placement in the home, and you will return immediately and deliver it to me. If you fail to do any of these things, I will _hunt you down and slaughter you like the dog that you are._ Am I clear?”

The man babbled that yes, yes, of course he was clear, and of course he would see the girl safely delivered. He stank of terror and shook like a leaf in the wind.

It was not enough. Nothing would ever be enough to quench the burning rage over Melisande’s murder. But his wife would be avenged. The traitor responsible would beg for death before Ra’s was through. And then maybe he would not see his wife’s reproachful stare when he looked upon their youngest daughter.

***

_Thirty years later_

“Jannat is dead,” Talia told him, voice blank with shock and grief. “My sister has been murdered.”

Ra’s fountain pen dropped from nerveless fingers, ink splattering across his desk. “No. Jannat is not connected to the league. There would be no reason for her to be targeted.”

Talia’s laughter was an awful, joyless sound. “She wasn’t targeted for being your daughter, don’t flatter yourself. She was killed because the man could. Because it _amused_ him.” Talia shook, silent sobs racking her body.

Ra’s closed his eyes. Jannat could not be dead. Jannat was only thirty-four. Barely an eyeblink had passed before the stubborn toddler had become her mother’s poised duplicate, and now another eyeblink and she was gone. Too soon. It was too soon. His daughter was dead, and it was too soon.

“Her body?” Ra’s asked, without hope. If Jannat could be resurrected Talia would have already done so.

“Cremated,” Talia confirmed, fist pressed to her lips as if to contain her cries. “The funeral is in a week. She’s to be buried in Gotham.”

“Bring her home.” Ra’s throat was tight, grief battering at his iron control. His daughter was dead.

Talia nodded, and began to sob openly. Ra’s rose from his desk and embraced his daughter, resting his head atop hers. Jannat was dead, and Melisande wept in her grave. Too soon. Mortality was a curse that stole away his family, and it was too soon.


End file.
